I will not go into my reading history. Not least because my second husband (FOS) censored me severely and made me get rid of a lot dear to me. To the tune that I still question my sanity that I allowed him to do so. He was a good man – don’t get me wrong.
However, to be told (today) – by I don’t know who, some upshot – to not read “bad” books (being a waste of time) is even worse. How do you know a book is ‘bad’ (whatever that means) till you have at least put your magnifying glass over it? It’s like admitting that I have never listened to either Madonna or Lady Gaga. Which is true. I know they are both shit. On coffee table evidence alone. Sorry about the detour: I have no time for whores who do not deliver.
The Angel predicted years ago that I had material to either turn into Dylan Moran or a grumpy old woman. Probably both. A cross breed. If there is one good thing about getting older, apart from shredding your past, it’s that you do not care any longer what anyone thinks. I am young enough to care that someone thinks utter crap, publishes it and gets paid for it. And I beeping read it into the bargain. Glad the columnist isn’t my daughter. We’d have as severe a falling out as one can have with a daughter. Which is (obviously) shallow in troubled water.
Here is a link to Dylan Moran: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HQaoPHV9YvA
And another one if you have the time: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hieTxQ0oJPc